


Cluekid and Arcanum

by Molly_Hats



Series: Kinda-Sorta Writing Teamups [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, An asexual tries to write flirting, Asexual Tim Drake, Based on a Tumblr Post, Early in Canon, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Queerplatonic Relationships, Tim Drake is a sheltered child, Timeline is a mashup because screw DC I do what I want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-04-14 18:19:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14141799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molly_Hats/pseuds/Molly_Hats
Summary: Tim Drake becomes Arcanum, sidekick to the Riddler.  While having yet more rivalry with Cluemaster, he meets Stephanie Brown—the Pointer, nicknamed Cluekid because "the Pointer" is an objectively terrible name.  They become friends, kiss a few times, and plot to undermine their mentors--not in that order.Discontinued, currently being reworked.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fillahsofytea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fillahsofytea/gifts).



> Gifted because this was inspired by their tumblr post

The Riddler—Edward Nygma—paced back and forth in front of him as Tim watched through the bars of his admittedly large cage. He wasn’t fearless, no, but the Riddler was probably one of the safer rogues to get kidnapped by. He usually gave you back. 

“Tell me, Batman. It's shorter than the rest, but when you're happy, you raise it up like it's the best. What is it?”

“Thumb,” Tim muttered.

Riddler whipped around, turning off the intercom. “What did you say?”

“It’s your thumb. Shorter than the rest of the fingers, but you raise it up when you’re happy.”

Riddler stared at him for a moment, then said rapid-fire, “I am rarely touched but often held, and if you are smart you'll use me well. What am I?”

“Tongue,” Tim answered promptly.

“I need to improve my material,” Riddler muttered.

“I’ve just been following you. Your career, I mean.”

Riddler stared at him. “Sure, kid. Flattery isn’t going to work here.”

“I’m not trying to flatter you,” Tim said. “Okay, fine, not _only_ flatter you. You showed up about a year ago. You’re intelligent, in this for the fun or for your own neurosis. Do you leave clues for the thrill or because it’s a plea to be caught?”

Ed stepped toward Tim’s cage, and Tim half expected to get hit. Instead, the Riddler smirked and leaned a hand on the bars, slouching toward Tim. “I’m a criminal who leaves clues. I’m the Riddler wrapped in an enigma. Who am I?”

“You’re Edward Nygma,” Tim said. 

The Riddler blinked.

Tim smiled. “Told you.”

“You’re a cocky kid.”

“Not cocky,” Tim said, shaking his head. “I just know things.”

“I wonder...What else do you know?” Riddler asked.

 

 

Riddler walked into his new lair to find a kid seated at his computer. “Who’re you? Whoever you are, you’ve made a big mistake!”

The boy spun his chair. He wore a green suit with a question mark tie. His feet barely skimmed the ground.

“Tim?” Riddler said in surprise.

Tim nodded. “I’ve been thinking, and I thought you could use a sidekick.”

Riddler eyed him.

“That second rate copycat, the Cluemaster, has one,” Tim pointed out. “Cluekid. I’ve seen her around.”

“Pffft. I’m better than him.”

“Prove it. Get a better assistant.”

“Why do you care? You’re a rich kid, why should you help me?”

“I’m bored,” Tim said with a shrug. “You seem like a decent guy, I’d like to see you win. And besides, my parents don’t actually care about me as anything other than a status symbol.”

“How should I know you won’t decide to turn me over to someone else when you get bored?”

Tim met his eyes with the most genuine hope Ed had ever seen. “I won’t. You’re the only person who’s given me the time of day.”

Ed considered the kid a moment, then nodded. “But you’re not getting access to most of my plans until I can trust you.”

“Of course.” Tim jumped up, a grin spreading across his face. He pumped Ed’s hand up and down. “Thank you, sir!”

Ed blinked, a bit taken aback. “Uh...my pleasure. Now go home to bed, alright? I don’t need Batman swooping down from the ceiling to accuse me of kidnapping.”

“Yes, sir!” Tim said, leaping up and practically running from the room, giving Ed a cheeky salute as he did so.

Ed shook his head. This could backfire, of course, but it’d be nice to have another person around capable of carrying on intelligent conversation, even if that person was—ten? Eleven? 

At any rate, there went one thing the Cluemaster held over him.

Cluemaster—the heck kind of name was that even?


	2. Chapter 2

Tim adjusted his mask and looked in the mirror.

“I told you, spirit gum works wonders,” Riddler said. “You don’t need to worry about it coming off.”

Tim nodded and glanced down at his staff. Unlike Riddler’s, his was flat at both ends, a simple carving of a question mark replacing the cane head his mentor’s had.

“This’ll be relatively simple. Start slow, alright?” Ed said, patting Tim’s shoulder. 

“Yes, sir,” Tim said. Ed couldn’t tell whether he was being sarcastic. 

That was still unnerving.

He opted to ignore it. “Your job is to keep tabs on the Cluemaster and Pointer. You see them, tell me, then keep Pointer out of our way. I’ll handle Cluemaster.”

“Any particular way?”

Ed shrugged, throwing one hand halfway up. “Come up with something. Don’t take unnecessary risks.”

“Never do, sir.”

Ed actually laughed at that one. “Kid, if you did that, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

Tim hesitated a moment, then cracked a smile. “It’s Arcanum.”

“Right. Go do your thing.”

:::

He neglected to mention to the Riddler that he knew the Cluemaster’s identity, too (along with Batman’s, although that was neither here nor there). He swung by the house and established a stakeout in a tree across the street.

Tim could hear the Calistoga theme music through the open window. Arthur Brown lived with his wife, Crystal Brown, and their daughter, Stephanie.

“Turn that sh*t down!” a male voice barked--Arthur.

The theme music decreased infinitesimally in volume. A few seconds later, the sound of a scuffle broke out.

Tim wondered what to do. Parents arguing was normal, but this sounded nasty. Was that normal around here? Maybe couples that didn’t have enough money to hire poor exhausted interns to talk to each other through vented their issues through violence.

Should he step in? Riddler would be mad, and he’d risk his secret identity, but--

Something hit the back of his head, hard, and he fell through the tree branches, blearily throwing his arms up to shield his face, his head pounding. He hit the ground on his back, knocking the wind out of him. He felt around for his staff, then felt pressure on his chest. He looked up. 

His staff was pointed between his eyes by...someone. He tried to push himself up with his hands, but the person holding him down pressed harder and he sank back down with a gasp of pain.

“Who the hell are you?” His attacker asked--a female voice, barely above a whisper. 

Tim scrambled to uncross his eyes, following the staff up to his attacker’s face. She wasn’t wearing her usual mask, but Tim recognized her from the photos he’d dug up.

“Steph,” he greeted.

“How do you know my name?” Stephanie asked. She poked the staff into his chin. “Who _are_ you?”

“Arcanum.” 

Steph rolled her eyes. “ _Okay_...with context clues, I’d say you’re the Riddler’s sidekick. Never figured him for the family type.”

“Wouldn’t have figured your dear old dad for it either.” Tim glanced meaningfully over at the Brown household. “Still don’t.”

“So, Archie,” Steph said almost conversationally, leaning forward. She planted the staff tip in the dirt by his head and leaned on it so that the weight of her boot on his chest wouldn’t grow unbearable. “Why’re you stalking him? Doubt the Riddler’d be interested in us. We haven’t got anything worth stealing.”

“I stalk a lot of people,” Tim said, shrugging his shoulders as best he could. “You’re not really special.”

“I don’t think that came out as innocent as you thought it did,” Steph commented helpfully.

Tim finally gave up. “Arthur Brown is Cluemaster. And apparently a domestic abuser.”

Steph laughed stiffly. “My dad, the Cluemaster? Trust me, between us, he's not smart enough.” 

“You didn’t deny the second bit,” Tim said, looking up at her with genuine concern. 

“Like your family is probably any better,” Steph said.

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I’m pretty good at figuring things out.”

“So what’re you gonna do with me?” Tim asked.

Steph stood up straight, lifting the staff pack up. “I could turn you in for creeping around.”

“Your dad’d kill me to protect the secret identity,” Tim said. “And then Bats would come after you. Riddler, too.”

“You’re wrong about my dad,” Steph said, but he saw the worry in her eyes.

“If you call my bluff and your dad kills me, it’s on you,” Tim said.

“Maybe I don’t care,” Steph said. “Maybe I’m an unrepentant criminal, and I’m fine with a body count. Maybe you’ve done so much bad already the world would be better without you.”

Tim stared into her eyes for a few minutes, daring her to blink or look away.

“Stephanie! Get in here!” Arthur yelled from across the street.

Steph started, then glanced between the house and Tim. “Go,” she said after a moment. She stepped off of him and let go of the staff. “Run. I see your puny ass around here again and I’m hitting you with more than a can of beer.”

“That was a beer can?” Tim muttered, half to himself, as he struggled to his feet. The back of his head burst into a new explosion of pain, and he rubbed it.

“Better use than drinking it,” Steph said. “Now, go!”

“Stephanie!” Arthur sounded mad now.

Tim took off running as Steph took off toward the house.


	3. Chapter 3

Tim stood on the roof, comm in one hand, his small pack of “throwing cards” (thicker than real ones, but printed for the Aesthetic™) in the other. His job was strictly to look out for trouble and be ready for the getaway. He was only about one step above stationary mission control—Ed had allowed him to come on this mission very reluctantly.

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this,” came a voice from behind him.

Tim whirled. “Steph.”

“Please. I’m here in my official capacity,” Steph said, referencing her costume with a wave of her hand. “Call me...” she paused dramatically, rolling her eyes, “The Pointer.”

“Right,” Tim said, eyeing the blue mask that covered her lower face, then looking down to the bandoliers that crossed her chest, the skirt, and the boots. Her whole outfit was blue and purple, with a small orange emblem where the bandoliers crossed: a stylized pair of crossed lines in a circle. “Your dad sent you to keep tabs on me?”

“Nah. He sent me to take down Baffler.”

“Who?”

“Exactly!” Steph rolled her eyes. “Honestly, he took himself down. So I had some free time, so I decided to see what you were up to.”

Tim laughed. “Nothing much--duck!” he hissed abruptly, tackling Steph. They fell behind a metal roof access hatch that barely shielded them, their faces inches apart. 

“Desperate much?” Steph teased, looking up into his eyes, her own sparkling. “If you wanted to get closer to me, you could’ve just--”

Tim held a finger to Steph’s lips. “Batman,” he whispered.

Steph seemed about to say something anyway, but a rattling on the roof heralded Batman’s arrival. His footsteps crossed the roof, then headed off again, disappearing into the distance.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of the big, bad bat,” Steph said, pushing Tim off of her and propping herself up on her forearms, eyes flicking in Batman’s direction before shifting back to Tim. “You probably know his name.”

Tim muttered, “That would just put a target on my back.”

“Batman doesn’t hurt kids.”

“Not from him—from any dumbass who wants his name.”

“Like your dad?”

Tim looked startled. “What?”

“Riddler. Wouldn’t he want to know?”

“Oh, right,” Tim said. “Yeah. I think he knows. But he wouldn’t hurt me.” 

Steph glanced over at him, expression unreadable, then stood up. Hesitantly, Tim did as well. 

“So, you know what happened to Robin?”

“No. I think he’s alive, though.”

“Why?”

“Trust me, Batman would be a lot more brutal if Robin died.”

Steph eyed him.

“What?”

“You’re not fooling anyone, Wonderboy.”

“It’s boy wonder! And I’m not!”

“Come on. Undercover with the Riddler? Sounds like a job for Robin.”

Tim shook his head. “You’re crazy.”

“Riddler ain’t your dad. I startled you when I suggested it.”

“I was...um...really surprised you figured out he’s my dad?” Tim suggested weakly.

“You’re a terrible liar, wonderboy.”

“Arcanum.”

“And I thought ‘Cluemaster’ was pretentious.” 

“It means secret, mystery! It totally fits!” Tim insisted. “Riddles and arcana!”

“Sure.”

“Better than ‘the Pointer.’”

“Nobody said dear old dad was clever,” Steph said cheerfully.

Tim’s brow furrowed. “If you hate him so much, why’re you helping him?”

Steph stiffened, and she raised her head to look toward the batsignal. “Riddleman really isn’t your dad, huh. It’s complicated.”

“If you need--” Tim began awkwardly.

Steph turned back to him, eyebrows raised. “I don’t need anything from you, Mr. Mysterious.” She reached out a hand and took Tim’s startled one. “Still...if you’re up for it, there’s something I want.”

Tim’s throat was suddenly dry. He gulped, then coughed a bit to clear his throat. “What? Do you want?”

Steph leaned forward and took his suit by the lapels with one hand. Quickly, almost too quickly for Tim to register, she leaned forward, lowered her mask, and briefly touched his lips with hers. He started, and she smirked before pulling her mask back up, hand still loosely gripping his jacket. 

“I… Steph…”

Steph tapped his hat up, knocking it off his head. Tim dropped to grab it, and popped back up to see a blueish purple figure leaping off into the distance. He put his hat back on, tapping it securely onto his hair.

“Mission accomplished. Are you in position, Arcanum?”

Tim started again at the sound of Ed’s voice coming through his earpiece. “Gimme a sec.” He turned away from the retreating shape of Stephanie Brown, the Pointer, and ran to the getaway car to go pick up the Riddler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The main sources for this series are the Tim Drake Robin series and the Dick Grayson Robin: Year 1 mini. This is possibly the most heavily impacted chapter so far as far as those go. 
> 
> It occurred to me midway through this chapter that "oh, right, even if the ace doesn't get the flirting, you've still gotta...you know...write the flirting from one side." I am a confused aroace mess, my apologies to Steph's canon flirting skills.
> 
> Thanks to everybody who read or left kudos or comments! You rock, and I hope you have a great day and continue to enjoy. :)


	4. Update

I’m going to rework this series. After some thought and working on outlining it and its accompanying universe, I realized this works better with some major changes that would honestly be less confusing to just start over with. I’m not sure if I’m going to leave this version up or not. Most of the content will likely be reworked into the new version. 

Also, as it turns out, I had erroneously believed that "Cluekid" was the canonical name Arthur wanted Steph to take. "Cluekid" was the invention of self-described stephxpert sqoiler on tumblr (AlmondRose on AO3), specifically from [this ficesque thing](http://sqoiler.tumblr.com/post/171006876216/stephanie-brown-is-a-genius-shes-smart-and) which is perfect and way better than this and you should go read right now. 

Thank you for all the kind words and kudos! This fic is **not** dead or ending, it’s simply being reworked.


End file.
